if time could stand still, i'd freeze it here
by Aimlessly Unknown
Summary: He settles himself on her bed and lies back, curling up on her pillow and breathing in the smell of Rose Tyler, love, and lost things.


_Summary_: He settles himself on her bed and lies back, curling up on her pillow and breathing in the smell of Rose Tyler, love, and lost things.

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><p>"You can love someone else, Doctor, it's not a betrayal." Martha tells him, hand lingering just a bit too long on his arm, staring him right in the eyes with that look of hers that reminds him painfully that she isn't Rose. Martha looks at him with a passionate love that fights and vies to be in the front – to be <em>noticed<em> by someone. Rose looks (_looked_ and that distinction makes it so much harder to breathe) at him like he was the only thing in the world, her eyes were warm and bright – it sat in the back and waited patiently.

Rose didn't force her love on him; she pressed it lightly on his arms and let him take it when he wanted to, let him time to heal enough to slot his fingers in between hers and pull her into his love, she waited and gave him space.

(_that's the difference, right there_ his mind warns martha – tells her she isn't enough—but she's his friend and can't that be enough, just once?)

"Doctor?" Martha asks, moving slightly closer to him. Far enough for him to not quite need to push her away but close enough for him to feel the heat from her body (_rose did that – rassilon rose did that so much and it just wasn't enough for martha to have brown eyes, was it_?)

He steps back, steps away from the romance that Martha wants, and asks, "Where to now, Martha Jones? Perhaps Fhehal – the planet of trees, or Shfffiii – just try to pronounce that without their six uvulas, it's practically impossible! Anywhere you want to go Martha! Just pick!"

Martha steps back and leans against the rail, looking at him sadly and a bit forlornly, before picking anywhere with a blue sun and food that doesn't taste like socks. The Doctor grins at her, perfectly happy on the outside, and sets the coordinates.

"There we go! Off to Bsugi, now then, while we wait, I'll be off to tinker with the sonic screwdriver in my Laboratory," He laughs at the word and files it away to be used multiple times later, "I'll be back in a frinff – interesting story actually, that word means, literally, the time elapsed that is needed to do something important, quite a handy word I think. But you can muck about in the TARDIS whilst we wait – I'll call you when we arrive."

He leaves the Console room, smiling, whispering under his breath, "Such a funny word…_laboratory_…"

But he doesn't go to the proclaimed Laboratory, he takes a right instead of a left and finds himself in front of Rose's room – painted a golden colour that she had taken a shine too after he regenerated (_he tries not to think about the bad wolf, about the pain, about the moment where he nearly, truly lost rose for the first time_). He opens the door and enters the room, taking a moment to stare at the left-as-it-was room.

With her covers haphazardly thrown over the mattress, her nightstand still with a cup of tea on it – unable to grow mold thanks to the TARDIS, clothes strewn all around, and that stupid picture of them on New Earth –

("_ Rose, I don't want to_!" He had protested, waving his arms about as if that would dissuade Rose Tyler.

She just laughed at him, "_ Oh come on, Doctor! Don't you want a memory of this time_?"

He had pouted sullenly before muttering, "_ Got a bit Time Lord brain, remember_? _I don't need a picture_!"

Oh he had argued, had wrestled, had even tried to bribe his way out of it but Rose won in the end. Just like she always did. And she'd never let him forget it. Even as she tugged him close by the waist – forcing his arms to wrap around her, settling tightly on her own waist – the victorious grin never left her face.

" _Cruel, cruel human_." He teased as she laughed; the sound tinkling in the air around them, and echoing into the space of New Earth and his mind as the shutter snapped closed.)

The picture was a good one, the both of them smiling, leaning on one another, with New Earth in the background. They looked happy, looked perfect, looked _in love_ – and oh that hurts just a bit more too because they were all those things until the Void. They were all that and more and now they're nothing because they aren't with one another and both have some poor substitution (_him with martha and her with mickey and it just isn't fair to any of them_).

He settles himself on her bed and lies back, curling up on her pillow and breathing in the smell of Rose Tyler and love and lost things.

"You're wrong, Martha." He whispers to the space in front of him, where Rose once was with her big cheesy grin and those bright, beautiful eyes and he spans his fingers over that space, trying to recall the warmth that once was there.

And Martha was wrong. So very wrong. Because the Doctor couldn't truly love anyone else – not because it was a betrayal – but because he didn't want to love anyone else, didn't want to try because it would be in vain. He didn't want to try to love anyone else because Rose was the '_be all_, _end all_' for him. She was – to quote a human – The One.

But he'll keep running, keep fighting, and let Martha think they're as close as the Doctor and Rose once were. He'll do that for Rose. Even though it's the wrong hand in his and the wrong pair of eyes looking at him with the wrong kind of love – he'll keep going.

Because he's the Doctor and he's always okay.

(_and something inside of him breaks and he thinks it might have been his hearts but he's too numb, without Rose, to know_)

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><p>Some of you may say that the whole 'brown eyes' thing is too far but when you're in love with someone the way I want the Doctor to be with Rose then ANYTHING and EVERYTHING reminds you of them. So yeah...<p>

Aimlessly Unknown.


End file.
